


sing for their good fortune

by midsummerjay (avioletqueen)



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Long-Term Relationship(s), Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22414690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avioletqueen/pseuds/midsummerjay
Summary: "She wants to be cool, be casual, but her voice trembles despite herself. She remembers the last time she saw Fourteen like it was yesterday. She doesn’t remember how long it’s been since then."
Relationships: Fourteen Fifteen/Tender Sky
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Secret Samol 2019





	sing for their good fortune

**Author's Note:**

  * For [noiselesspatientspider (shipyrds)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipyrds/gifts).



> i hope you enjoy this gift!   
> title from tender's full excerpt name.

The thing about the Splice is that time feels different. 

Tenderness watches over the people who enter, and the people who stay, and her memories of each of them never seem to fit into a timeline like they ought to. 

It’s not something she stresses about. There is a joy in keeping this place peaceful, and if that joy is to be timeless, who is Tenderness to argue with that? 

And so the days pass. 

Until the one day, in particular, that seems to jump out at them more than others. Everything always feels heightened for her, but it’s somehow moreso today. She worries that this might be her intuition from ages past, that there might be something coming to threaten the world she maintains here. 

Then a door, opens, somewhere, and Tenderness knows she has to be there. 

Because they’re here. 

It hits her like a bullet in the back to see them enter, tall and golden. Something about them seems to reflect all the light in the Splice, giving them a glow – but maybe that’s just how Tenderness sees them. 

She stays out of people’s way, usually, but that’s not an option here. So she leans over the railing that’s appeared before her, waves down at them with a broad smile. “Fourteen!” 

They turn to look up at her and her grin gets impossibly wider, and she knows she must look silly, but they’re here, and there isn’t much room in her brain for anything else. 

That prickling feeling she’s so used to doubles as she watches them approach, every little physical tic still in place, just as she knew them so long ago. 

“Hey there. I thought you forgot about me.” She wants to be cool, be casual, but her voice trembles despite herself. She remembers the last time she saw Fourteen like it was yesterday. She doesn’t remember how long it’s been since then.

“It could happen.” They lift their shoulders in a shrug.

“I wouldn’t let it.” That, she knows without a doubt.

Fourteen stands to attention, perhaps not realizing that a chair large enough for them has been provided by the Splice. Tenderness gestures towards it, and they sit, awkwardly and carefully, filling her with a sudden rush of fondness. 

“What brings you here?” she asks, leaning over the bar that’s appeared between them. It takes her back to her days at the Steady. She wouldn’t say she misses it, but she’s happy to have this chance to relive it now, no matter how different she’s become since then. 

“Well,” Fourteen begins, and then they’re telling about her a case, because they’re still a lawyer, apparently, and Tender pours herself a drink, and Fouteen says something with their usual deadpan, and Tender laughs with her whole body, and it’s almost exactly like it was back then. 

Almost. Except for the undercurrent holding the conversation in place, the feeling that it’s now or never for every inconsequential bit of banter they exchange. 

It’s minutes, hours, days until she breaches the subject. They’ve caught up on everything possible, and Tenderness can feel what’s between them like it’s something physical, can practically reach out and pull on it like a rope.

She can’t help herself.

“I think I was one of your jobs. Like- Castlerose sent you. For me. To kill me.”

They both fall silent after that. Tender expects as much. It’s a grave accusation to make – and at the same time, it doesn’t really matter. Castlerose was lifetimes ago, in so many ways. 

And yet, Tender wants it out between them. She’d figured it out at some point along the way – something about the way Fourteen’s eyes looked when they met (piercing, confused, focused, curious). That, mixed with what they’d confessed to her as they’d grown closer (“My target… they’re eluding me, somehow.”). Both of those, mixed with a hundred other things, clinched together by the last damning piece of evidence which is Fourteen’s silence now. 

“But you didn’t kill me,” she adds on, and she can see a tension in them ease way. 

“Yes,” they admit finally, their voice quiet. “Because I forgot, until I was reminded.” 

“And then?” Tender has not held her breath like this in a very long time. 

“And then I didn’t because it was a non-starter.” They’re firm on that much, nodding as the speak. She laughs softly, reaches out to put a hand on their arm.

“Would you have? When we first met, if you had remembered?” 

“You know that’s not something I can answer,” Fourteen protests, and Tender laughs again, her nose wrinkling slightly. 

“I know, I know. I’m not being serious. Just- humor me. Flatter me. Say you wouldn’t have.” It’s what she wants to hear. And what’s the harm in asking for it, after all this time?

Fourteen pauses, then smiles. “I hope I wouldn’t have. Your friendship has been… transformative, for me. I cherish you.” They’ve always been forthright like that, in a way that thrills Tender terribly. 

She puts a hand on their cheek, the metal surprisingly warm underneath her fingers. “I didn’t ask for all that.” 

“I’m very generous, Tender.” They lean forward carefully, touch their forehead to hers. “Don’t forget that.” 

“I would never.” 

Time passes differently in the Splice, so she doesn’t know how long they stay there like that. Only knows that at some point, Fourteen needs to get what they need and go, and Tenderness needs to let them do that. 

“I’ll be back soon,” they say when they’re about to leave. It’s something polite, something rote. 

Tenderness tilts her head to one side. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Fourteen.” 

“It’s not a promise. It’s a wish.” 

The door closes behind them. 

For a short while, the days feel distinct again. But soon enough, time goes back to its languid stretch, and Tenderness throws herself back into her duties with new vigor. In sharing a wish with her, Fourteen has given her something precious. A lesser form of herself would’ve given up on looking forward to their return, but not Tenderness. She is who she is now, so she tends to that small hope inside of her, holds onto it as a comfort, nurtures it so that it fuels her. The Splice grows warmer by the minute. 

And so the days pass.

**Author's Note:**

> find me @midsummerjay on twitter!


End file.
